Houdini has Nothing on Me
by IronAmerica
Summary: In another time, Danny Matheson would have had a headlining act as an escape artist.


So, it's a new story. Danny is a very good escape artist. Do not trust him.

Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.

- o – o -

Houdini has Nothing on Me

Captain Neville liked Noblesville. It wasn't Philadelphia, but he still liked it. If his wife, Julia, had lived here—or at least been waiting for him—the town would have been perfect. Still, he'd be able to see her in a few days, and life would go back to normal. Well…mostly.

If not for the boy he was escorting back to Philadelphia, it would have been like any other return to the capitol of the Republic (minus the train; he wasn't _that_ important). Neville felt some guilt over that. Danny Matheson was a good kid. Polite, well-mannered, quiet.

_Well, _most_ of the time_, the Militia captain amended silently. When the kid _did_ speak, he had the amazing ability to point out horrible, horrible truths. If he thought he could get away with it, Neville would have broken the boy's jaw. As it was, he was seriously considering gagging Danny for the remainder of the voyage.

The biggest issue regarding his dislike of Danny Matheson was the kid's escape artist tendencies. He was Harry Houdini reincarnated and made six times more annoying.

Neville sighed and leaned back in his chair. There were other things to focus on, such as the fact that, for the first time in weeks, he was dressed in clean clothes. He'd even taken a bath and shaved when both options were offered by the master of the garrison. Absolute luxury… When he got home to Julia, neither of them were going to leave the house for a week. There might even be actual _sleep_ involved this time…

He started guiltily when he imagined Danny joining them. It had been _far_ too long since he'd seen his wife. And Danny was… Hell, how old _was_ the kid? Fifteen? Sixteen? Either way, he was too young for what Neville _wanted_ to do, which was just throw him to the ground and give him _several_ very good reasons to _stop_ with the escape attempts. It was almost a pity that he'd held onto those kinds of old world morals…

_Just think about Julia, _he thought as he tried to banish images of a writhing, naked Danny from his imagination, _and how _happy_ she'll be to see you alive. No leaving bed for a week._

"Captain Neville?"

Neville sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. He was going to have a headache in a few minutes, wasn't he? Danny had that ability. Maybe the gag _wasn't_ such a bad idea...

"What?" he asked, hoping the annoyance wasn't leaking through.

"What was your first kiss like?"

Neville blinked at that. "What was _what_ like?" he asked, sure he hadn't heard Danny right. That was it, he wasn't leaving Julia's bed for _two_ weeks. Well, except for real food that didn't leave him wondering just which parts of the deer he was eating, anyways.

"Your first kiss," Danny repeated. He was chewing his lower lip in a way that was…_infuriating_. "What was it like?" Neville chanced a look at the boy, and sighed. Why, on God's green earth, did Danny Matheson have to be able to look like _that_?

Screw morals, he was going to have to do something about the situation before his head exploded.

"It's none of your business," Neville replied, wincing mentally at how childish he sounded. Ah well. He readjusted himself in his chair, and wondered when the room had gotten so hot. He _really_ needed to get back to his wife in Philadelphia.

"They're going to kill me, you know," Danny said softly. He looked down at his hands, a sad look on his face. Neville resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. If Danny _truly_ had no idea of the effect he had on people, Neville would sell his soul to the Rebels and begin handing out their propaganda. (If the boy did, Neville would just throw him to the ground and screw his brains out before they got to Philadelphia, just for being a tease.) "I'm going to die, and I'm never going to find out what being kissed is like. I'm never… I'm never going to have sex," he admitted quietly, almost too low for Neville to hear.

Danny looked up at Neville, a shy smile on his face. "So…what was _your_ first kiss like, Captain Neville?"

_Danny Matheson_, Neville thought, _you're going to be the death of me._ The captain stood up and walked over to the cell the Matheson boy was in and leaned against the door.

"Son, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," Danny replied automatically. "I'll be eighteen in, umm…" He was chewing on his lower lip again as he thought, eyes distant. "About the time they have to start harvesting winter squash," he said with a sigh, giving up on finding an exact date.

Neville weighed the pros and cons for a few seconds, before heaving a mental sigh. Well, the kid _did_ have a point… He pulled the key ring out of his pocket, not noticing how Danny's eyes lit up at the sight. (If Neville had noticed, he would have seriously reconsidered opening the cell.)

"Come here," he said. Danny gave him a look that said 'do I look like an idiot?' and shook his head. Neville growled impatiently and grabbed Danny by the front of his shirt, dragging the teenager bodily across the cell.

"Consider this your first lesson," he murmured, pressing his lips against Danny's. He wondered why the kid hadn't made even a token protest, before deciding that the issue really _was_ that important. Huh. Sheltered country boys. Go figure.

Neville wasn't sure how it had happened, but they eventually ended up horizontal on Danny's cot. The captain gave thanks to any god that was listening that he'd had to live in a tent for several years after he'd joined the Militia. It would have been…_bad_ if he'd ever been discovered with his wife. It would have been worse, of course, if anyone had discovered him _here_.

Half an hour later, Neville left the cell, extricating himself from Danny's embrace with extreme reluctance. The boy was exhausted, although given that he'd never done anything quite so _energetic_ before, it was to be expected. Neville shut the cell door behind him, smiling when the lock clicked shut quietly. Danny was asleep, and—before he'd left—Neville had pulled the blanket up to the boy's chin. Mostly, it was to hide what evidence couldn't be cleaned up. But part of it was out of…some feeling he couldn't describe.

As there was no way Danny would be able to get out of the cell, or the stockade, Neville left for his quarters. He needed another bath, and about an hour before the warm glow wore off, before he started hating himself for taking advantage of the situation.

As soon as he'd left, Danny's eyes snapped open. He smirked and reached under the thin mattress, pulling two keys out.

"Houdini has _nothing_ on me," he muttered, unlocking the cuffs.

He made it to the edge of the town before anyone caught up with him.

- o – o -

So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Seriously wish they'd include this in Monday's episode? Drop a line and let me know!

I blame tumblr for this.


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